Butch started to toss and turn in his sleep. He cringed as well.
...
...
...
His vision was foggy. He couldn't even see his hands from an arms length away. Suddenly, a voice called out: "Butch?!" He searched for the source of the sound but the fog was too dense for him. He heard it echo again, "Butch, where are you?!" he quickly recognized the voice: Angela.
"ANGELA?!" he yelled back. He ran to where he thought the voice was coming from. The fog immediately parted and a curled up figure of Angela appeared in front of him. His jaw nearly dropped when he saw how beaten she looked. He held back the tears as he rushed to Angela's side. "A-Angela?" She looked up to him; his heart skipped a beat at the sight.
Her lustrous light blonde hair was in a complete mess, her right eye (her beautiful half rusty-half baby blue eye) has a huge scar by it, her clothes were partially torn, and bruises covered most of her tan body. His bottom lip quivered and he brought Angela closer to him. Angela returned the embrace and buried her face in his chest. "Wh-What th' hell happened?!" he asked. Angela told him through her crying, "They-They found out...!"
"Who did?!"
"The-"
Angela was then dragged out of his arms screaming. "ANGELA!" Butch screamed. But it was too late. She was gone. "NO!" Butch froze in shock. How could this happen to him? He wanted answers; and he wanted them now. "Whaddya want from me?! TELL ME!" he yelled into the emptiness. Suddenly, another voice cried out: "Help me!"
Butch turned to the source of that voice. The fog cleared and he found himself on the roof of a train. "Wha' the...?" he muttered. The voice cried out again, "Butch help me!" He quickly recognized the voice: Blake. He turned around and saw Blake hanging onto the top window sill with all her strength. "B-Butch! Help me!" she pleaded. Butch got down on the ground and held his hand out as far as he could. "Blake, grab on!" he ordered. Blake reached up as much as she could. Her eyes then caught something right behind Butch. "Butch! Behind you!" she warned him.
Before Butch could react, he felt something pull him back. "I don't think so!" the voice said from behind. He turned his head and saw the face of Joe. He then heard a gun go off and he looked back and watched Blake fall into an abyss. "NO!" Butch cried. Tears filled his eyes as he angrily turned back to Joe. "You son ova..." he hissed. Joe smiled at him.
The smile, however, appeared demonic. The Spaniard then started to laugh- and in a creepy demonic way. Butch's face became terrified when Joe transformed into a sick demonic cross of a spider and a scorpion. Joe then raised his pincer and hit Butch off the train. He screamed as the darkness consumed him.
…
…
…
Butch suddenly woke up in a cold sweat. He panted heavily. He looked outside the window and guessed that it ws at least 2 in the morning. Butch got out of bed, put his boots back on, readjusted his pants and buttoned a few buttons on his shirt. He left the car and climbed up the ladder and sat on the roof before noticing a dark figure sitting a couple yards away from him. He squinted and saw that it was Scuzz.
~Who am I, is this me?
Am I one or thirteen?~
Butch quietly approached the scuzzy outlaw. Scuzz looked up to him; he looked like hell from what Butch could tell. "Y'alrigh', son?" he asked. Scuzz just stared at him blankly and slowly shook his head. Butch sighed through his nose and told him to wait there. 'Not like I'm going anywhere...' Scuzz thought. A few minutes later, Butch returned. "Didn' see ya at dinner, so ya better eat up," he told Scuzz handing him half a loaf of bread with a bottle of whiskey. Butch took the other half of the loaf and opened the other whiskey bottle he had brought along. Scuzz slowly opened his bottle.
~I've gone cold, hard to deal
Used to stand where I kneel~
"How long 'ave you been up here for?" Butch asked. Scuzz nibbled on the bread and muttered, "Not... too long..." "What've you been doin'?" He shrugged. "Thinkin'..." Butch noticed he didn't stutter; he assumed Scuzz could not do it in short spurts. Nonetheless, he nodded. "I can understand tha'," he replied.
~Everybody listen
Voices in my head
Everybody listen
Does yours say what mine says?~
The two men sat there in silence. Butch kept picking at small pieces of bread and taking small sips of whiskey. "I'm guessin' you havin' trouble sleepin' as well?" he asked. Scuzz nodded. Butch continued, "I can understand you." Scuzz turned his head slightly towards Butch. "Losin' a fiance an' a kid at th' same time, losin' yer boss. That's kinda rough on ya, ain't it?" Scuzz nodded and said, "I've... Been havin'... Some difficulty tryin'... to understand why things... Like this happen to us..."
"No doubt about it."
Suddenly, Butch realized Scuzz didn't even studder. He turned his gaze towards the New Englander, who was still nibbling on the bread. He raised a finger at him and said, "...Did- Did you not stutter like ya usually do?"
~I want more, than I need
I don't know what is real~
Scuzz kept his eyes forward and remained silent. "...Ever... Since Blake died... I... Took it upon myself... To stop... Stuttering... Now... I... Can only... pause in bet...ween words an' sentences," was his response. "I... Wish I... Could just speak...Normally..."
~Everybody listen
Voices in my head
Everybody listen
Does yours say what mine says?~
Butch didn't know what to say. He only sat there in silence. "A-An' you know... What?" Butch looked at the man, raised eyebrows. "...Sometimes... I wish... P-People would just... Just listen ta wha' I... Gotta s...say fer once!"
Butch decided then he couldn't help but feel bad for Scuzz. "It all ain't yer fault, Scuzz," Butch muttered. Scuzz quickly turned to Butch. He was puzzled by his comment. "What... What do ya mean?" he asked.
~Anytime I listen
Voices in my head
Everybody listen
Does yours say what mine says?~
Butch shrugged and replied, "I mean. It ain't yer fault you were born wit' tha'. An' shit, I don' see why ya gotta let people beat th' shit outta ya." Scuzz then shook his head and said, "Well... To be honest... I... Wasn't really born wit'... It."
"Meanin'?"
"Meanin'... I... I kinda developed it. Had... Had anxiety problems, lead to... Accident in New York... With work I mean. Never... Never bothered to... Check out a d...octor."
"Why not?"
Scuzz shook his head and replied, "I... I was afraid... They'd put me... In an a...ssylum. I... heard stories... 'bout them. They... They sure s...scared th' shit outta me."
~Whispering of names, faces
Uniforms I've worn
And all that is gone
Always climbing~
Butch stayed silent until he gave his opinion. "I would' say I blame ya."
"Wha'... Wha' do ya mean?"
Butch chuckled a little and replied, "I was once like ya, boy. Younger, really didn' give a damn 'bout nothin'. I've had my bad times, too." He took a swig of whiskey and continued, "I got drafted into th' damn Union army wit' Cole— That's how I knew 'im. 'nyway, in there, all I can tell ya 'bout th' army is— It ain't nothin' but hell raisin' all over th' place." Scuzz kept listening as he ate some more of his bread and drank a little more whiskey.
"W'll, wha' I'm meanin' ta say is— I never had a perfect life. Jes' like you. Like all o' us."
"Even... Blake?"
Butch hesitantly nodded. "Yeah. Even her..."
~To fall down again
Holding onto everything
It's not what it seems~
The two were silent. They then similtaneously looked up to the stars. "Ever wonder... Wha' they meanin'... Ta tell us?" Scuzz asked. Butch didn't hesitate to shake his head and reply, "I don'... Really believe in tha' sorta bullshit. Ya know me." Scuzz continued as if he had completely ignored Butch's comment. "I kinda... See it as th'... Souls of th' ones b'fore... Us." Butch quickly looked away from them and fought back a tear in his eye.
~I've been told, dreaming's free
Think I'll go back to sleep~
"You okay?" Butch turned to Scuzz. He quickly wiped his eye and muttered, "Yeah. I'm fine..." The men fell silent once more. Scuzz broke it by asking Butch, "Wha'... Made ya decided... Ta be a... Uh, y'know... You?"
~Everybody listen
Voices in my head
Everybody listen
Does yours say what mine says?~
Butch had to gather his memories before he told the scuzzy outlaw his story. "Honestly... All I can tell ya is: I was once like ya..."
"Ever since m' ranch got attacked by Indians years ago, I though m' life was over. That was until I met up wit' Latham. We got ourselves inta alotta touble wit' th' law. At bars, whether they had a fight club, he'd bet on me an' that's how he got his money business started. All I ever did was beat other men outta en'ertainment. I took an upper cut to th' mouth wit' a knife an' that's how I ended up wit' this nasty ol' scar o' mine-" he pointed to the scar on his lip and continued, "-I also ended up loosin' m' tooth. Cole managed ta replace it wit' a silver one. 'nyway, we ended up droppin' th' whole fight club deal and left that.
We ended up diggin' out silver outta this river an Indian boy told us about..."
He buried his face in his hands after he finished that last sentence.
~Anytime I listen
Voices in my head
Everybody listen
Does yours say what mine says?~
"What... Happened...?" Butch didn't move. "I... I mean... At th' river?" Butch didn't feel like talking about it so he told him, "It's... Somethin' I kinda regret doin'." Scuzz nodded. The men were silent once more.
"Ya know... You... You were l...ike a father... To her," Scuzz muttered. Butch turned to him puzzled. "Whaddya-" Scuzz put a hand up to make him stop talking. He continued, "Ya know wha'... I mean."
~Calling out the names, faces
Uniforms I've worn
And all that is gone
Always climbing~
He shook his head and continued, "She... She was abused... By her parents. Fer... Fer years- She never... got ta... Feel any sorta... Parental care. All she... Was was a... Screwed up kid. You... You were th'... Only one ta... Ta really care... For her. I... I don' pers'nally think... She woulda say some...thin' like this but... It had... really meant alot ta her." Scuzz got up and stopped behind Butch, put his hand on his shoulder, and muttered in his ear, "You shoul' never blame yerself fer all tha' you had lost..." and he left.
Butch's lip quivered and he let a tear fall down his cheek.
Scuzz was right.
~To fall down again
Holding onto everything
It's not what it seems~
((As you can tell, this chapter was, yet again, inspired by a song. The song's called Voices by Alice in Chains (Really awesome song! Totally recommend it if you like grunge/rock.) Butch's story was kinda my headcanon on how he got the infamous scar and how he and Latham started their hell-raising actions. So yeah... Well if you lovely reader will excuse me, I shall be off into the next chapter! Buh-bye! *Markiplier voice*))